


pieces of eight

by ohallows



Series: sasha week 2021 [2]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Fun, Gen, sasha joins a pirate crew the fic, zolf sees sasha and defends her within 10 seconds the sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28834137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Sasha takes a deep breath, hands tightening on the rope. She leans back and then throws herself forward, clinging for dear life. There are yells of frustration behind her, but she doesn’t look back. Just as the rope reaches its apex she lets go, flying through the air as she safely collides with the rigging of another ship, hands desperately scrabbling at the rope. She looks back now, heart racing with the adrenaline, and her stomach sinks as she realises that the men chasing her haven’t given up, and are just going the long way around to intercept her. She swears under her breath and grunts as she hauls herself up.
Relationships: Erika Brijnholm & Zolf Smith, Sasha Racket & Zolf Smith
Series: sasha week 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112573
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32
Collections: Sasha Week 2021





	pieces of eight

“Oi! Stop him!” The call echoes around the market where a number of people are selling their wares. Sasha dodges through the crowd, clutching her prize (a nice new dagger) closely to her chest. She glances left and right, breathing heavily, and then lunges to the right, only just missing a carriage that thunders by her, driver leaning off the side to curse at her. 

The two men chasing her don’t stop their pursuit, heavy footfalls pounding behind her as Sasha desperately searches for any escape. Out of options, she runs toward the docks, hoping to use the confusion as her chance to slip away. 

The crowd gets thicker as she gets closer to the dock, sailors and pirates alike snarling down at her as she tries to simultaneously stay out of people’s way and lose her two pursuers. She flings apologies left and right, not needing anyone else on her tail, and vaults over a set of crates as she chances a single glance backward. The two men are still after her, and they’re not being nearly as careful as she is. They’re also gaining on her, throwing people out of their way as they run. 

Only one thing for it - she runs up the nearest gangplank, dropping to her knees and sliding as she avoids two men carrying a long wooden beam. They swear at her but she doesn’t stop, hopping over a stack of crates as she dashes to the other side of the ship. She looks over the side, at the long drop into the water below, and grabs a rope, hauling herself up into the rigging. 

“Oi! Thief!” The shouts are closer behind her now, and it’s clear that people on the deck have taken interest, with how they’re watching the chase play out. 

Sasha takes a deep breath, hands tightening on the rope. She leans back and then throws herself forward, clinging for dear life. There are yells of frustration behind her, but she doesn’t look back. Just as the rope reaches its apex she lets go, flying through the air as she safely collides with the rigging of another ship, hands desperately scrabbling at the rope. She looks back now, heart racing with the adrenaline, and her stomach sinks as she realises that the men chasing her haven’t given up, and are just going the long way around to intercept her. She swears under her breath and grunts as she hauls herself up. 

No one on this ship seems to have noticed her yet; she looks just as grimy as the rest of the crew, she figures, so it’s nothing really out of the ordinary. Little miracles, she supposes, and swings around until her feet hit the deck. Different crew members are shouting out instructions to the others, and Sasha quickly sneaks around them, trying to look like she knows where she’s going and what she’s doing. 

She needs a plan; the men chasing her clearly aren’t interested in letting bygones be bygones, all over a  _ simple _ adamantine dagger. She stows the dagger in the pocket of her coat, patting it absently as it vanishes, and pulls her hat down further over her face. The crew around her don’t notice as she weaves in between them, trying to get to the gangplank before her pursuers. 

Her luck doesn’t hold out. Just as she starts to make her way toward the gangplank, she spots both of the men, standing at the end of it. They must have run to get there this quickly.

“ _ Shite,” _ she breathes, and takes a step back, eyes darting left to right as she tries to spot a way off the ship that  _ doesn’t  _ include going in the ocean below. The men don’t seem to have spotted her yet, but there’s no way she can sneak past them. And they’ll be on the ship in a moment, within eye sight of her. 

She turns, mind racing a mile a minute, and then starts to run toward the lower deck. It’ll be easier to find a small cranny to hide in; she can wait for the men to pass her by, and then make her escape before long. She dashes down the stairs, glancing behind her to check on the men, and then crashes into someone, sending them both flying. Sasha’s head knocks into the stairs and her head swims for a moment. 

There are calls from up on the main deck - someone clearly heard the crash and is coming down to investigate. Sasha scrambles forward, into the dark, and then feels a hand on the back of her jacket as she’s pulled back. 

“Right, who are you?” she hears, and realises that the person she crashed into is a dwarf, short and stocky, and he’s giving her a glare like she couldn’t believe. 

“I - I -” she stammers, glancing back to the stairs just as the men’s boots appear on the top of them. 

She scrambles forward again, trying to break his grip on her jacket so that she can hide. He looks at her, eyes desperate and pleading, and then up at the men, who are just now boarding the ship with looks that promise a painful retribution, and he shoves Sasha backward, further into the shadows. 

“Stay down,” he whispers, straightening up as he crosses his arms, and Sasha immediately listens, curling up on herself as she fits neatly behind a row of tall barrels. He carefully shifts, leaning on one leg, and Sasha notices that one of his legs is a burnished metal, starting just where his knee ends. 

She covers her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her breathing, and then two sets of footsteps come down the stairs and pause, only a few feet from where she’s hiding. 

“What can I do for you two gents?” he asks, and the two men pause in the entrance to the lower deck. 

“Looking for a thief,” one of them says, a growly voice that makes Sasha’s skin crawl. “Stole one of me best daggers and ran off. Watched ‘em hop onto this ship before I could nab them. Could have sworn he ran down here when he saw me coming.”

“No thieves on this ship,” the dwarf says, and there’s a beat of silence.

“You sure, mate? Got short hair, wearing a long coat. Little waif, thin enough for me to toss overboard without a second thought. Would be happy to take ‘em off your hands,” The other one speaks up now, voice almost  _ too  _ smooth. 

He’s clearly trying to cajole him into giving up Sasha, and she looks up at the stranger with terror on her face. His face is completely blank; she has no idea what he’s going to do.

“Haven’t seen anyone like that around here,  _ mate _ ,” the dwarf says, crossing his arms and staring them down. Sasha can only see him in her field of vision. The barrels block everything else, and she’s curled up so tight that even moving a bit threatens to expose her hiding place to the men who have been chasing her. 

The first man who spoke hums, disappointed. “Now that there is  _ truly  _ a shame. Only, we saw him make it onto this ship, and there’s not many places he could  _ go,  _ if you catch my drift.”

Her rescuer stiffens, and Sasha realises that there’s a sword - an  _ actual  _ sword, a cutlass - strapped to his belt, and his hand is slowly twitching to it. “I told you. We’ve lots of crewmates who fit that description, and ain’t  _ none  _ of them been down in town. We’re about to set off.” 

The first man sighs. “Look, mate, we don’t want any trouble. Just hand the kid over and we’ll go on our merry way.”

Sasha watches as the dwarf’s hand tightens on the handle of his cutlass. “S’that a threat? On  _ my _ ship? Really? You know you wouldn’t get ten steps past the rest of the crew, yeah?”

The two men who’ve been chasing Sasha are silent. 

“I. Ain’t. Seen. Him.” The dwarf bites off every word, and the clear threat in his tone seems to finally get through to the two men as Sasha hears them take a step back. “Now, you’re going to go your separate ways, get  _ off  _ my ship, and forget you ever heard anything about the  _ Sea Troll. _ Okay?”

“...Fine,” the growly one says, still with a note of suspicion in his voice. “Come on.”

They both leave, walking slowly, and Sasha’s sure that their eyes are sweeping the space, looking for any hint of movement that may indicate where their prey has managed to hide itself. She holds herself as still as she can and doesn’t let herself breathe until the lower deck is completely silent, save from the hubbub of getting a ship ready to set sail.

“Well. That was a bit of unpleasant business,” the dwarf says, crossing his arms after Sasha’s pursuers have disappeared. He walks up to the top of the stairs, watching for a moment. “Okay. You can come out now.”

She still waits a moment, and then unfolds herself from the position she’d been in. Her muscles ache a bit, so she shakes them out and stretches a bit before she stands, double checking that the stolen dagger is still in her pocket. 

“May want to wait a bit before you make your escape. I’m sure they’re waiting right at the end of the gangplank for you. I don’t think I actually convinced them that you weren’t here,” he says, with a bit of a troubled look on his face.

“Er. Thank you,” Sasha says, stumbling a bit over the words. “You didn’t, er - have to.”

He gives her a clearly amused look. “Wasn’t going to throw you to the sharks, was I? Plus, those two upsold us when we’d just gotten to port. Felt good to get them back for it, even just a bit.”

“Oh. Er. Well, thanks, again,” Sasha says.

“Right. Not that this hasn’t been thrilling, but I do need to get some things in order before we go. You can stay down here for a moment, but you should head out before we sail away,” he explains, and starts to head off deeper into the lower decks. 

“I want to join you,” she blurts out, and then shrinks back into herself, flinching a bit.

There’s a pause as the dwarf stops, standing there still with his back to her, and then he turns around, a curious glint in his eye. He looks her over for a while, sizing her up; his gaze is piercing, and even though Sasha’s increasingly uncomfortable with the scrutiny, she still waits, chewing on the inside of her cheeks and clenching and unclenching her fists.

“Is this because if we let you go, those two men will find you and hamstring you for stealing their dagger?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, and Sasha flushes. 

“... maybe… maybe a bit,” she mumbles, “but, er. Always wanted to join a proper sailing vessel, right, and if you’re planning on setting off soon, I’d - I can help, I mean. I’m well good at moving about the topsails, and I’m a dab hand in a fight, and -”

The man holds a hand up and Sasha cuts herself off, teeth clacking together as she quickly shuts her jaw. 

“What’s your name, then?” he asks. 

“Er. Sasha,” she says, leaving an obvious space where her last name should be. He doesn’t question it, instead turning around. 

“Come on,” he says, heading back up the stairs to the main deck. “Your two followers are gone, so no need to worry. But, I’m not the one who you’re going to have to convince to stay on this ship, here, yeah?”

“Er. What?”

“Come  _ on,”  _ he says again, and starts to head up the stairs. After a moment, Sasha follows, scrambling after him. 

He leads her around the ship, chatting with a few of the crew members on the way, giving them a quick order as they set off to do their business. Eventually, they get closer to the back, and the dwarf taps on the hip of a tall orc who’s currently at the helm, one hand on the wheel as she calls orders out over the din. She cuts herself off as she looks down at the two of them.

“Morning, captain,” the dwarf says, giving the captain a bow that’s, somehow, sarcastic. The captain just rolls her eyes. “You’re looking rough today. Might I have a word?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, Mr Smith, would you let me say  _ no _ this time?”

The man - Mr Smith, Sasha supposes, and wonders for a moment just who this man is to be able to talk so brazenly with the captain - just smirks up at her. “Trust me, this one will be worth your time.”

The captain snorts. “I doubt it. Very well, come on. Mr Barnes, take the helm. We’ll be underway soon.”

“Aye, captain,” another man says, coming forward at her instruction. 

She starts to walk away, and Mr Smith follows. He turns back and motions for Sasha to come along with a tilt of his chin toward the captain. She listens, after a moment, and hurries along behind them until she’s stood right behind the dwarf. A few crew members give them curious looks as they pass, but don’t say anything apart from muttering a bit among themselves. 

Eventually, the captain leads them into her stateroom, and the dwarf ushers Sasha in before him before he turns and closes the door behind them. 

“Right. What do you want, Zolf?” the captain asks, leaning back against her desk as she crosses her arms over her chest. “We need to be setting off soon, otherwise the tide is going to fuck us and we’ll be stuck here for another night.”

“Won’t be longer than a moment, captain. Had a bit of a… spat, with some of the local merchants from town a few moments ago. Thought you might be interested.”

“And this affects our business dealings how, exactly?” The captain runs a hand down the side of her face. “Zolf, I swear to the gods, if this is another port we need to put a big red X over because you had to pick fights with the biggest, meanest brutes on the island, I -”

“Oi!” Zolf protests, throwing his hands to the side. “I don’t  _ pick fights _ . Those two numbskulls back on Tortuga were harassing our crew, it wasn’t like I was just going to stand there and  _ watch.” _

The captain hums, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “What’s this about, then?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t pull me aside just to tell me a few merchants were disgruntled with you. I just come to expect that at every port we go to.”

“Well, captain, we’ve got a bit of a stowaway on board,” Zolf says, thumbing over his shoulder at where Sasha lurks in the corner of the room. The captain’s eyes turn to her, as though she’s only just noticing her there. “Says she wants to join the crew.”

“Ah…” the captain says. “You want to be one of us, then?” She pushes herself off the desk and takes a few steps toward Sasha, examining her critically. She stops right in front of her and uncrosses her arms, tilting her head to the side. “Captain Erika Brijnholm,” she greets, sticking out a hand that Sasha examines before awkwardly taking.

“Sasha…” she says, planning to end it at that, but Captain Brijnholm just stares at her, waiting for a full answer. “Ricketts.”

The lie is obvious, but Captain Brijnholm doesn’t call it out, just nods, as though everyone lies about their surname. Maybe they do. Sasha wouldn’t have any way of knowing.

“Why do you want to join our crew, then?” Captain Brijnholm asks, walking in slow circles around her. Her footsteps are solid and loud on the wood underneath, and the sound drills into Sasha’s mind as she tries to remember all of the reasons why she wants to leave the island, today’s events notwithstanding.

“I, er. I - don’t want to, er. Being here, er, isn’t really… an option, anymore, really, er -“ she stammers, eventually trailing off as her words die in her throat. Sasha doesn’t know what to say. Her shoulders stiffen, her hands clench into fists, and she chews on her lip, staring doggedly down at the floor. All of her reasons feel foolish, now; a pipe dream of an escape more than anything else. 

Zolf looks on, almost disappointed, as Sasha stays silent, and even gives her a bit of a nod as though to encourage her to say  _ something _ .

The silence stretches, tenuous as a fishing line, and Sasha swallows heavily as she tries to find her voice again. Captain Brinjholm pauses in her circling, giving her a pitying look, and with a sigh, begins to head back toward her desk. 

“...Well, I’m sorry, Ricketts, but -“

“I saw the flag,” Sasha blurts out, and Captain Brijnholm freezes. There’s a flash of danger in her gaze as she turns back to Sasha, and even Zolf takes a step forward, watching the two of them carefully. “In the hold. It wasn’t hidden very well, but I don’t think those two noticed it while they were down there. And, er. I - I want to join. I love the sea, and the openness of the water, and I can  _ fight,  _ and nearly no one ever sees me coming, if you need a spy. There’s, er. Nothing left for me, here, and I - er. I want to, er. Be… free.” She finishes in a whisper, still staring at the floor. 

The silence stretches again, but it’s different this time, almost considering. She chances a glance to the side; Zolf is giving her a little smile, and Sasha feels a thin thread of hope curling around her heart. Maybe - maybe she didn’t completely bungle this, and maybe she won’t get tossed back to the figurative (and literal, if Ashen is involved) wolves. She glances up at Captain Brijnholm, who’s watching her with an unreadable look on her face. Sasha thinks there might be a hint of approval in her eyes, even, and her heart starts to beat a bit faster in anticipation.

“You’ll start in the galley,” Captain Brijnholm says eventually. “Mr Smith here is our cook, in addition to being our quartermaster, and there’s no one better for getting the newbies up to speed. Don’t disappoint me, or I’ll happily drop you off with nothing in your pockets at the next port. Or off the side of the ship. Whichever strikes my fancy.”

Sasha’s sure that her eyes are as wide as dinner plates by the end, and she nods quickly. 

“Aye - er, aye aye, Captain,” she stammers.

“Yeah, yeah, very intimidating, Captain,” Zolf mutters off to the side, and Captain Brijnholm shoots him an irritated look. He just shrugs, staring right back at her, and eventually she sighs and rubs the bridge of her nose.

“Get out of my statehouse,” she says, waving a hand at the two of them. “We’ve got a ship to launch.”

“Aye, Captain,” Zolf says, with a lazy salute. He grabs Sasha by the wrist and pulls her out of the cabin. 

“Thank, er - thank you,” she mumbles, just before the door closes, swearing she gets half a grin from Captain Brijnholm. 

It takes a moment for it all to settle in as she stands on the deck of the ship, surrounded by crew members shouting orders, loud bangs coming from up the mast, and the salty spray of water making her skin feel dry. A pirate ship. She’s a  _ pirate  _ now.

“Well, Sasha,” Zolf says, turning to her with a glint in his eye that makes Sasha immediately feel more welcome. “Welcome to the crew.”

**Author's Note:**

> rewatched black sails. blacked out. woke up and had this sitting in front of me. also, sasha is a bit younger here - think, like 16 or 17? also this isn’t meant to be canon divergent, its just. pirate au hell yea its like the steampunk 1600s instead of steampunk 1800s. maybe a hint of treasure planet too in there 
> 
> some patreon backstory stuff makes an appearance just bc Zolf was, like, literally on a pirate ship and why would i make a new character when one literally exists. also hc that erika is an orc. we love to see it.


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